How He Became Strong
by SecretFan17
Summary: After Holy Roman Empire disappeared, his whereabouts became unknown. This is my version of what happened.


My short story version of what happened to the Holy Roman Empire after he disappeared. Note: I edited this over and over and republished it. Please enjoy. ^.^

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**How He Became Strong**

Brown eyes that swam with warmth stared at a moonlit sky. The stars shined in eyes that swam with a mysterious liquid, one that came to him in an unbeknownst way. His heart tightened within his chest cavity. He clenched onto the white and green fabric of his clothing, tears staining his pale knuckles to a darker cream tone. Ruffles of his dress fluttered into the air covering the view of his body as the wind picked up and was carried off through the window, into the small room that the child sat, on a small stool, resting his arms and head on the old wooden windowsill. His eyes never turned away from the cloudless night sky, the crescent moon shimmering upon a vast ocean. In a soft, whispered, and airy voice he called, "Please return home soon."

_Holy Roman Empire..._

x

The wind roared to life in the frozen desert, tracks of life long erased and forgotten. A certain man with silvery white hair walked through the blizzard, flag in hand that blew fiercely all around him, uncontrollably so. His steps were deep but were quickly eradicated by the storm. Though to the watchful eye of mother earth, it seemed as if he had nowhere to go. The man knew. He knew exactly where he was going.

His clothes blew into the wind, whipping against his body just as hard as the flag was. His clothes too had ruffles, making the young and slowly approaching man look all the more elegant. A rare beauty to those who would pass by and not know of his origin. His black boots stomp slightly faster into the deep snow as his eyes caught sight of what he was searching for.

He reached a black mass that lied in the snow, half way covered by the unforgiving, cold substance. Blood could be seen to be soaked through into the white ground, a stark comparison just like the man that stood above it. Crimson red against a blinding white. Equally piercing red eyes squinted at the body and a sneer was shown upon his features. The man was just like the picture he saw. White and silver marked his hair and skin, that blood was the same color as his eyes, and that black mass... that black mass seemed to be him from deep within.

Into a ferocious rage of fire the man lifted the flag in his arms, raising it high above his head before thrusting it down, spearing the ground with its sharp end next to the small body. He plummeted his knees into the snow before the seemingly still black mass, but even that mass moved as the flaps of those black clothes blew in the wind like everything else.

Red eyes teared up as shaking hands, not driven by the cold, reached out to the body. He lifted it tenderly from the snow, cradling the small boy on his lap, supporting the back and head with his forearm. Bringing their faces closer, the strange man wiped away the blood from the angelic face. _Too young_ he thought.

Though he wiped the majority of the blood, the red still stained the ghostly pale face. Thin, long fingers ran through soft, golden locks. He secretly wished that those blue eyes would open once more so he could stare into them and take in their softness and innocence one last time. _What a cruel world._

He looked down upon the wound that had pierced the small child, snuffing out his life from the world. His tears could no longer be held back as they brimmed over his bottom lids and fell onto the body in his arms. He brought the child up to his chest, resting his own head upon the boy's unbelievably still chest. He let the wind whip around them, forgetting all turmoil except for the one that faced him now.

_Badump._

Crimson eyes opened wide at the sound he had just heard, lifting his head slightly before diving his ears against the chest cavity again, listening closely for more.

_Badump._

The silver haired man straightened up and a smile began to grow on his pale lips. His mournful tears grew into tears of happiness as the world had finally given him a chance to make things all right. He held the small child close, giving him his warmth and love, not daring to let go for a second.

"Hello little one. I hope you can hear me. I am Prussia, I will now be known as the east," he spoke softly into the boy's ear in short, whispered sentences.

"Your name used to be the Holy Roman Empire. Your new name will now be Germany."

"They will also call you west. With me, you will become strong."

"My brother."


End file.
